Buy yourself another drink, yeah?
by GirlDressedInBlack
Summary: The Mistress walks into a bar looking for a mysterious stranger and finds themselves there instead and isn't that so much more exciting? Ainley!Master/Gomez!Master


So, not really sure why I'm writing this but whatever- hope you enjoy. This kind of started our weird, then got really weird, then smutty then cracky then I don't even know… I just don't know what this is.

Also sorry if the Master is OOC as I'm only familiar with writing for Missy and the whole fact that is kind of crack fic- well a crack pairing at the very least.

Really think it should possibly be weird that I ship different incarnations of the same character together but hey- fuck that, haha!

Also sorry for the fact that they would not get on with it- they just keep talking!

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The Mistress only has to walk into the bar before her eyes are instantly caught by the intriguing mind she's been pursuing. The man nurses his drink, perfectly relaxed.

Slowly she sits on the stool next to him.

"So," He turns to look at her, dark eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, "What's in that pretty little head of yours?" She asks. She had tried to get in but had found her match in mental defences and she just has to know. The man sighs melodramatically.

"One would presume my mind, the real question is why is a woman as cultured as you in a place like this?" He smiles charmingly, leaning towards her. Missy smiles in return, memories slowly pulling themselves from nowhere.

Ah, this would be fun.

She leans in.

"Well, why don't you get me a drink? It's only polite you know." The Mistress prompts.

He grins, bringing the hand not preoccupied with his drink to rest on her knee.

"Of course, what would you like my dear?" He asks.

She wrinkles her nose, thinking for a moment.

"Whatever has the most alcohol in it." She finally decides upon, shrugging her nonchalance.

His gaze travels down from her eyes, across the whole of her. He says nothing but she remembers doubting her tolerance.

"Very well- you heard that, didn't you?" He replies simply, first to her then as an order to the man behind the bar who scrambles to obey.

Missy leans back, crossing one leg over the other. He stares intently at her, waiting.

"I'm bored." She says plainly.

Her drink is plopped down beside her.

The man chuckles as she drags her glass to her lips, tipping it back slowly. She remembers the way his gaze had been fixed on the pale column of her throat.

The glass clinks against the bar top.

"I'm Missy, short for the Mistress." She introduces herself with a coquettish grin- which is rather ironic now she thinks about it.

This just sets the man's eyes alight with humour.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mistress- and I must say quite the coincidence." She tilts her head, a silent gesture of interest, "For I am the Master-" He says.

Before he can say anything more she cuts him off.

"And I should obey you?" She finishes, one eyebrow arching as she tilts the glass to her lips again, draining it.

The Master is flummoxed but regains himself quickly.

"Quite right my dear." He says, smirking at her.

She smiles, leaning towards him again, teeth almost glowing in the dim light of the bar.

"Then you'll have to buy me more than one drink, won't you?" She teases.

The man sighs, torn between irritation and amusement.

"Very well."

By the time three hours have passed they have drunk everywhere in a five mile radius dry.

Thankfully the Mistress decided that killing or threatening everyone would save money otherwise the Master would be very deeply in debt by now.

"You know I never thought I'd get so drunk with myself." The Mistress says, taking the Master's arm again.

"What do you mean by 'myself'?" The younger her (or should that be him?) asks.

The Time Lady snorts inelegantly.

"Oh, do try to keep up. I couldn't very well keep calling myself the Master now, could I?"

The Master stares at her as if she's grown a second head. So not very oddly at all really- a second head did narrow down the species you were trying to enslave so the Master had become accustomed to many headed aliens.

"That does explain rather a lot my dear." He says, pinching at his brow.

The Master is almost tempted to find another bar but the Mistress tugs on his arm.

"But it doesn't change anything." It's meant to be a question but she doesn't care enough to make it one. He wraps his arm around her waist, placing the other at her elbow.

"It doesn't change anything." He reassures her.

"I do hope that you haven't destroyed our dear T.A.R.D.I.S." She smiles cruelly and lets him pull her towards her version of their T.A.R.D.I.S.

"Not ours- the Doctor's is a different matter." The man ignores her, running a hand over the polished wood. Dim red light graces the whole interior and they both can feel the welcome the sentient box gives them.

The Master chuckles, gently caressing one of the levers.

"You changed the desktop…" The Time Lord stares up at the ceiling towering above them.

"I like it- classy." He comments.

Missy disentangles herself from his arms and curtsies low, not sure if she's mocking or just acting.

"I'm glad it pleases you- the Doctor never seems to like the changes he makes." The Master smirks, pulling the Mistress back to him.

"Oh, I very much like the changes I've made." His voice is low in his throat and the Mistress almost purrs, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Maybe you'd like to see more of them." She breathes into the side of his neck, her lips just brushing against the frill of his cloak. His hands slip down her back.

"I trust that we still use the same bedroom." He asks.

She holds on to him tighter, almost lifted by the effort.

"Yes, we do." Is her whispered reply.

He sweeps her legs from beneath her.

She tips her head back, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes, a nasty smirk on her lips.

He grins back.

"Then it seems I should get to know myself better."

"Hm- I think that would be most prudent." She replies.

They manage to get to the bedroom door before anyone loses any clothes.

Together they meticulously hang each item of clothes in their wardrobe before admiring themselves in their almost undressed state.

"I must say that I am rather fond of my new chest." The Master says, watching the rise and fall of the Mistress' chest.

"Much better than that dream I had about having Dalek bumps." He says with horror. The Mistress shudders for a completely not-nice reason, remembering the dream like it was yesterday.

"You mean Etheric Beam Locators." She quips.

Both quickly discard the thought as the Master sets about unlacing her corset. Gently he eases it open, releasing her chest from its confines. She breathes out heavily, slumping over slightly on the edge of their bed.

"Rassilon, it feels good to get out of that thing sometimes." She sighs.

The Master chuckles lowly, fingers brushing over the purple bruises at the sides of her ribs, too dull to match her clothes. She hums softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You know you're wearing your corset too tight." He mentions, pressing his thumb into a particularly sickly looking one.

The Mistress hisses in shock, no small amount of excitement in her pain. Her back arches, pushing her closer to him. The Time Lady winds her arms around him.

"If I keep breaking things it makes sure the regeneration energy keeps flowing, trying to fix things. Means I can't be killed slowly. The boning is dwarf-star alloy- only thing that would hold." She explains, eyes wild.

The Master smiles, pressing his mouth to her throat.

"Clever idea. It hides the fact you enjoy the pain." He says, well aware of what they like.

Teeth drag across her skin and the Mistress pulls the Master on top of her roughly, nails digging into the soft flesh where the hip joins the leg.

"Don't forget that I know just what you like too."

If her voice wasn't a husky whisper in his ear it would be taunting.

Full breasts push against him as he leans over her, one leg coming up to bracket her hip.

"That's because we like almost everything, my dear." He says with a polite smile which could only ever fit the moment on his face.

Her hands rise to sit against his shoulder blades.

"That is very true." She admits, "But I do think we'd both be enjoying ourselves a lot more of we just got on with it." The Mistress prompts, pouting at her younger self.

"Impatient." He quips, an eyebrow raised.

"You have no idea- should have seen the one before me! If his dinner wasn't ready in two minutes he'd eat the nearest person!" She says with mild disgust, "Not even seasoned or cooked- just raw human normally. How mad would you have to be to eat that ?" The Mistress sneers.

"Well. I can think of quite a few things I would prefer to eat than raw human right this second." The Time Lord says contemplatively. His eyes drop to hers as he slips his arms along the bedsheets to rest either side of her head.

"Although they do come even closer to cannibalism." He whispers, voice low as he brings one hand back down to trail over her stomach and hip.

The Mistress laughs, bringing a leg up to settle against his back, heel pressed just left of his spine.

"Well- I'm sure there would be no objections." She chuckles, arching her back just enough to push the full length of her body against him.

He slides a hand around the top of her thigh to unclip the back of her stockings.

"Oh? I'm sure I'll be able to make you cry out a few times." He says playfully, cupping her arse in his hand.

"Oh fuck you." She responds with no heat.

"About to my dear." He quips back just as easily, grinning at her.

Gently he removes her stockings, hands gripping her firmly as he rolls them down her legs. The suspender belt goes next, her knickers along with it.

She huffs out a breath in approval of where this is finally going.

"You do know I half expected that you would be wearing bloomers with your outfit." He says, looking back up at her face.

"Just get on with it." She hisses, rolling her eyes and swatting the back of his head.

The Master laughs a little, settling his leg back down to the floor and kneeling between her thighs, hands pinning her legs down as she sits up.

She props herself up on her arms, leaning backwards slightly, watching him as he moves closer, his breath and the thoughts of what they're doing and going to do sending her stomach pitching.

"Oh." She utters, eyes wide as he plunges his tongue straight into her, "Someone is very direct." She breathes out, smiling slightly derangedly as he presses harder against her hips.

The Master flicks his tongue against her clit, sealing his lips around it very gently dragging his teeth over the bundle of nerves.

The Mistress folds, fingers gripping his hair tightly as she tries to keep him there and push him away, breath coming short.

He releases one of her thighs and she hooks her leg around his shoulders, fitting the curve of her foot around the top of his arm.

His fingers trail down the crease where her hip and leg are joined to her entrance, slipping through damp folds to tease. He runs a fingertip around her quivering hole and she bucks forwards reflexively.

"Ah- not yet." He taunts, slowly running that single finger up to flick at her clit.

She gasps, arching towards him again.

"Fucking tease." She growls out as he stands, stepping away from her.

Her hands drop easily from his head as she crosses her arms, scowling at the dresser on her left.

"Language." He reminds her, raising his brows wryly.

She smirks.

"Yes- I'm very skilled at using it." Her nose wrinkles as she speaks, voice steady.

"As true as that may be I think you should refrain from it Missy." The Master warns, tilting his head up slightly to look down his nose at her.

The Mistress grins nastily, baring her teeth at the game.

"If you think I'm bloody well gonna stop swearing you've got another fucking thing coming love- and that thing won't be you." She almost hisses in her cockney accent, licking her hips and eyeing him appraisingly.

The Master slaps out at her for it, excitement shining in both their eyes as her head snaps to the side.

Missy gasps, grinning wide, hair coming down.

"Well aren't you a class A cunt." She spits, uncaring about hiding her smirk.

The Time Lord slaps her again.

"I strongly recommend you keep your language to yourself, Missy." He says, head tilted calmly but unable to disguise the glint of lust in his eyes.

"Or you'll fucking what?" She drawls, leaning towards him, daring him.

His hand darts towards her again and she snatches it, tugging him over and rolling them in the space of a moment so she's straddled over his stomach.

Their chests heave in unison and they laugh breathlessly as they switch roles, the Mistress bearing down upon him.

She leans over, grabbing his chin with a manicured hand and resting her forehead against his.

"Don't you think it's enough of the games?" The Time Lady asks, licking red lips as she splays her other hand against his throat, pressing down gently.

He says nothing, just smiling at her, eyes narrowed.

"Because I think…" She continues anyway, letting the hand on his neck meander down his chest, brushing over a pebbled nipple.

"I think." She repeats, dipping the hand between her thighs.

"I think." She sighs out, stroking over her hip and back down to his pants.

She palms his erection, smirking at the short noise he makes.

"I think that you are quite ready to end the games here." She whispers in his ear, grazing teeth along his jaw.

Missy massages him through the last layer of fabric either of them are wearing and he gasps out.

"For tonight." He concedes, eyes fixed on hers.

"Although I have no promises about not tying you up tomorrow, my dear Mistress." The Master says.

The dark look in his eye makes it a promise.

"Mm. I look forwards to that, Master." She whispers, releasing his chin and sitting up properly.

The Time Lord can't help but think that his future looks quite beautiful like that; bare and wet against his stomach, back arched slightly, eyes wide, rimmed by the softest blue, red lips glossed by desire and ghosted by the pink of her cheeks.

The Mistress moves back, tugging his last item of clothing down his thighs and letting it drop from his knees to his ankles where he kicks it off.

She brings herself back up his body, breathing against his skin, lips scattering sweet kisses on him before reaching his.

He rests a hand against her hip, holding her firmly with it yet without earlier's intentions of restraint. The other nests in her hair, tugging lightly at the already dishevelled locks as he tilts her head back and she lets him kiss her deeply, tongue tracing over the roof of her mouth which still tastes of the alcohol they'd drank but still undeniably of them- tobacco smoke and spices.

She moans softly, pressing herself tightly to him, melding their skins together.

There are no words either of them need as she draws back, breathing evenly.

Their gazes are locked on each other's face even as she lifts herself up, both hands against his hips and one of his at hers. The other cups her thigh as she carefully lowers herself down.

He sighs as he presses inside her, watching her lips part as her breath hitches.

She works herself down his length until he's filled her, chest rising and falling as she arches, rolling her hips to get used to the feeling.

"Fuck." She breathes out, tilting her head back. Her fingers twitch against his skin as she bites her lip, sighing heavily. She flutters around him, snapping her head back down to stare into his eyes.

He smiles, lips quirking as she begins to move.

"Fuck indeed." He says softly.

With languid movements she rides him, grinding herself down against him each time she takes his full length and crying out sharp little noises.

The Master moans, rising up to meet her as she moves faster, flesh slapping as he pulls himself up and slips a hand between them, the other cupping her arse as she moves frantically.

She lets out a desperate noise then, wrapping her arms around him tightly, her legs locking around his back as she pushes her head into his chest, eyes closed tightly.

"Oh fuck!" She groans, echoed by his panting as they meet each other only to pull away again.

"Fuck!" The Mistress swears, teeth clenched as she struggles to keep an even pace.

"Fuck!" She repeats like a mantra as he dips his head to her neck, grazing his teeth across her skin as much as he can with his own moaning.

Then she comes, quivering around him, his fingers still circling her clit as she fucks him haphazardly. He guides her as much he can, fucking as deep as he can while she cries out, shaking against him.

"Fuck!" She repeats once she capable of words again, slamming her hips down against his hard, again and again.

"Fuck- Missy!" He moans out finally, buried deep inside her as he lets go, gripping at her bruisingly tight.

"Fuck." She agrees, still gasping as they collapse on their bed.

He slips from her, softening and she moves in towards him, somehow more intimately than when they were fucking.

Gently she nuzzles her head into his neck, arms settling around his neck as she hooks her leg over his hip, sealing them together again despite their sweat as the confines it places on both of their still heaving chests.

"This is new." He says, a hand trailing against the soft skin of her back in curiosity.

"Mm." She murmurs, "This body's a lot more touchy feely than I think we're used to." The Mistress whispers against his skin.

"Does the Doctor like it?" The Master asks.

Missy wrinkles her nose a little, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

"He can't decide. Very much not touchy feely, out current Doctor." She admits, "Of course when he realises it's us and there aren't any of his pets around…" The Time Lady trails off.

The Master chuckles a little.

"We never can resist each other, can we?" He asks, gaze gentle on who he will one day become.

"No. No we can't." She says with equal amusement.


End file.
